


Common hereditary disorder.

by lahainelahaine



Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: all i did was give mira's mother a name lol, i know this is embarrassing but i'll write more if anyone actually likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28151376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahainelahaine/pseuds/lahainelahaine
Summary: A young, and obviously troubled Mira gets a diagnosis.
Kudos: 6





	Common hereditary disorder.

**Author's Note:**

> Exploring a headcanon I had about Mira and Ace being related once I found out that prosopagnosia can also, in some cases, inhibit the ability to percieve facial expressions.

The girl sat on the curb, unmoving, wondering when she would hear the familiar rumble of her mother’s car approaching the driveway after she came home from work. Mira had no siblings, and as per a child therapist’s request, wasn’t allowed to have sharp objects like keys on her. So she had to wait outside her house after school until her mom came home. 

It was already twilight, and her eyes would periodically wander to where the sun had been setting over the other houses in the spaced out cul-de-sac, before darting elsewhere. Mira didn’t have exactly what one would call a ‘healthy fear’ of anything, finding it interesting to do things that would cause harm to herself, and definitely to others. It was fun to watch the little specs appear in her vision after trying to burn her own retinas out of sheer boredom. Besides, after that conversation she and her mother had about faces… and hearts… No other part of her really mattered. Mira wanted to see the hearts, to touch them. And she had. It’d been at least ten by now, and she was getting a little frustrated that none of them felt like the first one she touched. She couldn’t even understand why. 

Thankfully, before the child became too invested in her thoughts, the rumble came close. Mama was home from work. As the hatchback pulled up, Mira stood up, dusting off her overalls and the red sweater underneath. Her attention was led to the driver’s seat window that was being pulled down in front of her. 

“Why aren’t you getting out, Mama?” Mira spoke sternly. 

“You have an appointment, baby.” 

The woman, named Marianna, had a very gentle way of talking to her daughter despite the cold demeanor she would nearly always get in return. She was very beautiful, with green eyes, sunkissed skin, and long medium brown hair that she was wearing in a braid. Despite this apparent appeal of hers, she would refuse to respond to any advances made on her; What she endured from Mira’s father was enough. Even Mira could understand this, initially wanting her mother to be one of the hearts she touched eventually… After Marianna described herself as being ‘heartbroken’, however, Mira realized it wouldn’t have been worth it.

Mira didn’t need any further instruction, opening the door directly behind her mother’s seat and hopping in.

“Mira, where’s your backpack?”

“I don’t have any homework, so I left it in my cubby.”

“Oh no, sweetie,” Marianna frowned. “What if the neurologist needs you to draw something? Your colored pencils are all at school.”

“The therapist makes me do that, not the neurologist.”

Maybe another parent might have considered that back-talk, but Marianna was fairly used to Mira’s way of speaking by now. Truthfully, she accepted her daughter as she was, and all of these specialist visits were partially because she had nothing else to do with the heaps of child-support money she was receiving. The perks of your ex-husband being outrageously wealthy, Marianna supposed.

“...Oh, it's at one of the hospitals Daddy owns this time.”

The ride to the hospital wasn’t very long, and neither was the wait to get into the office with the neurologist. The man welcoming Mira and her mother into his office was lanky, and all Mira could think about was how easy it would be to get to his heart. She wouldn’t have to dig with her knife for very long, carving out and being able to touch it within minutes, she mused. 

“Pleasure to see you, Ms. Torres.” How cordial he was was something that managed to unnerve the girl. Which was a feat, she was sure. “Why don’t you and little Mira here have a seat?”

The two listened, sitting in the two chairs in front of his desk on the other side of where he sat. Mira fiddled with her fingers and made sure she was farther away from him than her mother was, though not terribly so. She didn’t want to be told to push her chair in.

The man sighed quietly as he sat down himself, rummaging through one of his desk's cabinets for Mira’s file. “F… G… H… Hathaway, Henriksen-- Ah! Hongou. Here you are, Mira.” As far as Mira was aware, this specialist was one of the best ones in the state, often being requested specifically. That meant that he didn’t take very many patients, actually, and Mira was lucky.

“Ms. Torres, I’m going to cut to the chase. I’m very glad to let you know that I already have a diagnosis.” He gestured to Mira slightly with her closed file.

“Oh?”

“I’ve looked at Mira's symptoms and her behaviors with her therapists, and, well, her family history... Though it’s rare, some people with face-blindness also have an inability to perceive facial expressions in addition to the inability to perceive facial features. That’s more than likely what Mira has.”

Marianna stared straight ahead for a couple of moments, thinking.

“Is there anything that can be done about it?”

“Well, not really--”

“Then it’s settled.” The middle aged woman smiled sweetly, as she always did. “We don’t need to schedule a follow up appointment.”

After some more adult discussion that Mira didn’t really care to understand, she and her mother were on their way to the lobby of the hospital in order to leave. Marianna squeezed her daughter’s hand a little bit, worried that she might have been shaken by anything the neurologist said; As a mother, she would never want her baby to feel like there was something wrong with her, and that’s all an incurable disorder was going to do.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You’ll practice making faces, you’ll get better at them. You’ll learn when you’re supposed to make what type of face.”

Mira simply nodded in response. The closest thing she ever felt to empathy was times like this. When she would avoid saying things her mother really didn’t want her to say, so as to make sure she didn’t go into an unproductive depression over it. It could be quite annoying when she was fed dinner an hour late because her mother was in tears prior to cooking.

In the lobby, Mira saw something that she actually found funny-- A boy with grey hair, like he was old or something. Funnier, the smaller girl next to him had pink hair. They were being walked somewhere by one of the hospital staff, but saw Mira trying to smile at them as they were led away. Then she realized something wasn't right. When you find something funny, you don't just smile! You laugh! She was able to guess as much from cartoons she watched. Mira then tried her best to laugh, only a small bout of squeaky giggles escaping her.

It was infectious. Her mother smiled ear to ear once she took notice, looking at her giggling as they walked through the spinning hospital entrance door. “What's so funny, baby?”

“That boy had grey hair. He looks like an old man.”

“Mira...” 

Though heartwarmed that her daughter was able to express herself, that was a little bit of a mean thing to say, especially given that the boy they passed had a white cane on him. Even if Mira's insult wasn't ableist in nature, Marianna felt she needed to explain to her at home that some people were already at a disadvantage in life and didn't need anyone else kicking them down further.

But Mira already knew that. She was an outcast child for a myriad of reasons already, inheriting a disorder from her estranged father was the least of her problems. It didn't matter, despite how mad her mother was with him over the phone that night.

“Do you want to say hi to her at least?!”

Her mother's angered musing made Mira lift her head up from her takeout dinner cautiously. Luckily for the girl, Marianna would only be responded to with an abrupt hanging-up, and the continuous dial-tone that went with it. She wouldn't have had much to say to the man who made her upbringing cushy and privileged. 

It's not like he did much else for her besides that.


End file.
